


Tupperware

by rileywrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Eating Disorders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileywrites/pseuds/rileywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never eats until he’s full. It takes Stiles a while to figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tupperware

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my grew-up-in-the-depression grandparents. Please don't take this as condoning eating disorders in any way.

It takes years for Stiles to notice it (let’s be honest, when you’re constantly being hunted by supernatural beings, some things get put aside), but now that he has, he can’t help noticing.

Derek never eats until he’s full.

Unlike the other wolves, who could eat a small cow and still rummage in the fridge afterwards, Derek takes moderate (almost tiny) portions, and he cleans his plate like it’s his job.

_Stiles_ , fragile human Stiles, eats more than Derek does.

When Stiles finally clues in on it, other things make themselves obvious as well.

Derek makes sure everyone else has food before he approaches the stove or the take-out containers. He even goes so far as to offer people seconds before he has firsts.

Everything that’s left over gets put in the fridge in neat little tupperware containers that get progressively smaller as things get eaten. (The man has saved half an egg-roll before.)

He shops the sales, bringing home bread and rolls from the ‘overbake’ rack at the grocery store.

It’s all very odd, yet it strikes Stiles as familiar.

Finally, it hits him.

Stiles is watching  Derek containerize a teaspoon of fruit cocktail and he flashes back to his childhood, watching Grandmother Stilinski pack and repack the fridge.

Derek acts like someone who has known hunger. Someone who has lived on stale bread and water, never knowing where the next meal will come from and when.

At thirty, he eats like a child of the depression.

—

Stiles isn’t sure what to do with this information.

Derek may be comfortable with the pack these days (held together under Scott and Allison’s leadership, and isn’t that weird), but he isn’t exactly an open book.

He starts with little things.

"Here, I’m full," Stiles says, passing his plate to Derek. "This doesn’t refrigerate well, you may as well eat it."

Derek stares at Stiles, at the plate, and back at Stiles before shrugging and digging in.

After that, Stiles starts feeding him more and more, realizing that, while Derek won’t eat of his own volition, he’s more than happy to avoid waste.

Stiles then turns to eating leftovers instead of something new when it’s just he and Derek at the Hale house.

When Derek arches an eyebrow at him, Stiles just shrugs.

"No point making more when there’s all this stuff in the fridge." He holds out his fork with a ravioli on it. "Try these. I don’t think you had any the night we ate them."

Derek wraps his lips around the fork and chews pensively. Stiles tries to stomp down the little tendrils of a crush he’s been battling since high school. (He’s between significant others, so sue him.)

"So?"

"s’good," Derek says at last.

—

It takes Derek over a month to realize what’s been happening.

"You’ve been feeding me."

Stiles looks up from the pile of history papers he has to grade to find Derek pointing at him accusingly.

"I… yeah. Yeah, I have." He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead (too many sleepless nights in front of a computer) and rubs his eyes. "Should I stop?"

Derek looks startled. He obviously didn’t count on a quick confession.

"Why?" The wolf’s voice cracks.

Stiles takes a deep breath. “Because I care about you, and you weren’t eating enough.”

"You… care about me."

It isn’t a question, but it sure as hell sounds like one.

"Yeah, dumbass, I care about you." Stiles pats the couch cushion beside him. "Care to tell me why you don’t eat?"

Derek, surprisingly, takes a seat. He sighs, and it sounds like it started in his feet.

"We didn’t have a lot of money, Laura and I, after the fire. What we got from the settlement went to pay for Peter’s bills and the car, clothes— the basics." He chuckles bitterly. "Werewolves don’t expect to need life insurance. They all had the minimum coverage."

Stiles puts a hand on Derek’s shoulder, just to show he’s there.

"We would find work where we could, on the way to New York, but there were times… there were  _lots_  of times that food was scarce. I always made sure Laura ate first. Some of that was brotherly love, some survivor’s guilt.” Derek sniffles. “I learned what it was like to be hungry— really hungry. We were surviving on bartender’s salaries in New York. Rent came first.”

"I’m sorry."

"The habits stuck. And, I guess, some of the guilt."

Stiles pulls him into a half-hug. “You’re fucked up. We always knew that.”

Derek huffs a sort-of laugh into Stiles’ shoulder. “You could say that.”

"Do you want me to stop feeding you?"

"No. Not if… not if it means you stop caring."

"I could never stop caring, Sourwolf."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here.](rileyrises.tumblr.com)


End file.
